The Lady in Red
by Artistically-Free
Summary: "… I am not jealous... I am not insane either… I do not kill just for fun… Well, that's just what I think... What about you?" It's all misunderstood. She just wants... She just wants to be free.


**"My past has never been revealed, has it?"**

It all started on a rainy Tuesday afternoon. The sun was not out, not even the rays that loved to shine would appear. Clouds would block the sun from appearing, and raining as it did so. It was a gloomy day for the artist we all know as Guertena. He sat on his favorite stool, in front of an unused canvas. His eyebrows furrowed as he lifted his hand, trying to think of what he would paint for that day. One of his dear friends, Katherine, had passed away earlier that day. Nothing else could enter his mind except the thoughts that told him that this piece of art was to be important.

Something for her.

He did not know what was happening, but it seemed that the strokes he made mindlessly were actually turning into a portrait. The long, brown hair; those beautiful, red eyes he once knew; the pale skin that would always seem to appear even in the dark; the red dress that she always seemed to favor; the post that she was always caught in; this was her. This was Katherine. For a few minutes after finishing his work of art, he started at the outcome he just made. A brief smile came across his face as he placed both the palette and the brush back on the small side-table beside him.

He didn't want to give it away.

This was the only thing that could remind him of the female he truly cherished. Without this, her image would be forgotten by this aging man. He knew that he didn't have much longer to live, for he was already given results of a failing heart. But that most certainly did not stop him from painting. Nothing would stop his passion. _Even if it was the last thing he would do._

**"I was painted by an artist named Guertena. You see, I am the image of his friend who passed away the same day I was made into a portrait. Little did he know, all his portraits would soon come alive and go around the never-discovered halls of his museum."**

Only a few months after Guertena's passing, a beautiful museum was built for him. It featured all works of art he painted, sculpted and drew. Such a wonderful place to be in, but there was just one problem. Some of his creations have gone missing. They were brought in, of course, but then went missing the next day. Everyone fretting, fearing that someone might have stolen the wonderful projects. The case was dismissed as a theft. Someone turned himself in, since he did steal just one small painting of the artist's. Thing was, this painting was not important.

Where were the other paintings, you ask?

Down below, into a world never seen by anyone.

**"It was on that day that I realized that I could actually move."**

Something echoed around the halls. Something told her that she was alive. It was something that she knew she could trust. Testing out her eyes first, she looked left and right. It was then and there when she knew that the voice was not lying. Her arm reached forward and out of the canvas, and then the other one. She poked her upper side of her body out, but then that was all she could do. She could not walk like she knew humans did. She could not do anything, like running around or dancing.

Unfortunately, she leaned too far and the canvas fell out of the wall. She opened her mouth to release a groan, but she could not. It just came out as a small, yet scary, shriek. Her red eyes widened in fear. How could she get back up again? Could she not go to one place to another? Then she tried something. She crawled her way to the other side of the room. A smirk crossed her face, and she turned around. She crawled to the other side, but at a faster pace this time. This happened again and again, until her arms were strong enough to pull herself up using the bar on top of her painting and put her back into position.

**"But moving is more fun when there are 'visitors', isn't it?"**

A bored look spread across her face as silence once again filled the room. It wasn't until footsteps were heard, giving her the chance to go back into her original posture. She didn't want somebody to find out that they were alive, unless it was another painting, of course. A girl with long, brown hair came into her sight. She wore something that seemed to be a school uniform; a white blouse, a red skirt, black socks and red shoes. What gave the lady an impression about this young girl was that she did not seem fazed by the awful eeriness about this part of the museum.

But wait—Wasn't this part of the museum blocked from everyone?

This just made things more confusing. But then, the young girl stood in front of her portrait. She tried her best not to look down at her, but she did feel a pair of eyes stare up at her. Then, it was as if there was an urge to jump out and chase after her. It was if there was something she needed to take from her. But who would want to harm this little, young girl? There wasn't anything on he—Was that a rose? She absolutely adored roses. But… The way that this girl held it, it was if she was taunting her to get it. Sure, she just held it tightly in one hand, but that was good enough for the lady.

So, she jumped out.

**"It's fun to see their faces and screams when they run away from me…"**

"Ahh! Ib, that way!" A man screamed, taking a hold of Ib's hand. The faster they ran, the more fatigued they got. Although she wanted to go faster, she couldn't. It was as if she was stuck on that same speed; it just wasn't fair. The other ladies in blue or yellow were faster than her, but she couldn't care less. She just wanted to have some _fun_. She took a right, following behind the two running people around the museum floors. A maniac-like grin was stuck on her face when she crawled around, chasing the both of them.

**"But it is not fun to be facing a closed door. You see, since I do not have legs, I cannot stand up and reach for the knob. I guess you could say that doors are my weakness… Oh well, it's not like it's major though. I'll still get them…"**

But then… The door closed behind the two humans.

**"If there is something to end this with… I am not jealous."**

A cracked grin spread across the Lady in Red's face as she finally caught up with the two humans she wanted to torment. The two were holding their roses, looking all happy with each other just a while ago… But the way that they had true happiness angered her. They had each other to count on, but she had nobody. She longed for the day when she would feel the sun on her skin, or even find friendship… She knew that it would never happen. She was just a painting…

But then again, Mary had told her that…

_A life from this world could be interchanged from the other._

If only she could get the girl to stay here, while she went out there. Although she would not admit it, she did find the man a bit… Attractive. But he was in the way of her plans, so she scratched him out of her own list.

**"And… I am not insane either… I do not kill just for fun…"**

Fear was written all over their faces. Garry and Ib were rounded up in a corner by the infamous painting, the Lady in Red. Her grin still remained, sadistically happy that the two were that scared. She was about to take away their lives, and not by the roses. She was to do this by hand, even if it meant losing Mary's trust. She wanted freedom. She wanted power. She just wanted to be happy. Those were the two things that would make her joyed; power and freedom. Free from being a painting; and having power over mere humans.

She raised her hand up, nearing the two.

_Goodbye, humans!_

**"Well… That's just what I think…**

**And you?"**


End file.
